


Teach Me How To Feel

by gayzytown



Category: LazyTown
Genre: M/M, Robot AU, Robot!sportacus, This is an old story oops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-09-09 07:13:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8880787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayzytown/pseuds/gayzytown
Summary: Resident engineer Robbie Rotten builds an unintentionally gay robot to take care of him after he starts going blind





	1. The Creation

There was a light. At first, it was blinding, and then it died down, and he could see. “See” in a relative sense. “See” as in he could comprehend that there was something front of him, something soft, and pale, and beautiful. His artificial brain told him it was a human, and this he understood. As his vision cleared, his brain suddenly contradicted itself, and he knew it wasn't a human, it was a Robbie. He knew that Robbie was in charge of him, and he was to listen to Robbie and Robbie alone. He had an urge to speak, and so he did.

“Good morning,” he heard a, light, soft voice say. It was his voice, or the one that he'd been given. What he identified as the light gray, burnt eyes of his Robbie looked back and forth, and the robot knew that Robbie couldn't see. He found confusion in the blind eyes. 

“Something the matter, sir?” he asked. Robbie moved away and sat still.

“Self-analysis,” Robbie said, stern, and deep. The android found that his mouth spoke without his consent. 

“100% power. No flaws detected. Optimal performance.” He saw his Robbie hold his head in his hands. 

“Are you alright, sir?” he asked softly. Robbie lifted his head. He said nothing, but he stood up and moved towards the robot. The android watched him hold his hands out and touch his chest, and then slowly they made their way around him to the android’s back. It felt something inside its circuitry, something new, and strange. Everything was new and strange to him, but this feeling seemed like something he shouldn't have been experiencing. Something warm and soft that beat in his metal chest and made his gears whir and spin. It was the last thing he felt before everything faded to black. 

He felt life and consciousness again only a week later. When his brain had booted up, he could see his Robbie tracing his fingers over a piece of paper, riddled with small bumps. He identified it as braille, and his brain read the words. It was a bill for mechanical parts. 

“What did you buy, sir?” he asked. Robbie turned towards him, his unseeing eyes drifting past him, slowly. 

“Why do you ask?” he demanded. The robot thought for a moment. 

“I am curious.” 

Robbie grumbled something, and quickly stood up, facing him. He looked confused, angry, and a little afraid. “It doesn't matter. I need you to run out to the store and buy some things,” he said. He held a list towards the robot, and the robot grabbed it and looked at the messy chicken-scratch writing. It was regular groceries. 

“Yes, sir!” he said happily. Robbie frowned, but then simply turned away and continued looking over the bill. The robot’s brain told him where the store was, and he moved across Robbie’s underground lair to the exit.

He had been walking for a small amount of time when he saw a small human. The unidentified child wore pink, and spotted him as he spotted her. “Hello,” she said, warily. 

“Hi,” he responded. 

“...are you a robot?” she asked after a moment. 

“Yes, I am, tiny human,” he responded, and she giggled. 

“I'm not a tiny human! I'm 12,” she said. 

“12, small one? But I see only one of you,” he replied, confused. She giggled again.

“No, I'm 12 years old!” she said. He slowly began to comprehend. 

“I understand,” he said, and he did. She tilted her head, and he mimicked the movement, slowly. 

“How old are you?” she asked. 

“I am eight days old,” he said. She laughed, and stuck out her hand.

“I'm Stephanie!” she said. He looked at her hand, and at her, and then back at her hand. Slowly, he grabbed it.

“It is nice to meet you, Stephanie,” he said. She looked around, then back at him. 

“...did the mad scientist build you?” she asked quietly, leaning towards him. He leaned towards her. 

“I do not know. Robbie did not seem angry, but he is a scientist.”  
“I heard about him building a robot, but that was ages ago, before he…” she gestured to her eyes.  
“Before he…?” he gestured to her eyes. She looked at him intensely for a moment.

“Before the accident. When he went blind,” she finished. He opened his mechanical mouth to ask him a question, but was interrupted by a woman calling Stephanie’s name.

“I gotta go. What's your name?” she asked, taking a step towards the voice. 

“I do not have one,” he responded. Stephanie’s name was called again. 

“Get yourself one! I'll see you soon!” she called as she ran toward the woman. 

“Goodbye, small Stephanie,” he said, watching her leave. A new task was added to the to-do list in his head: find a name. But first he needed to get groceries. 

 

The robot returned to Robbie’s cellar, slid down the tube to the inside, and stood up quickly. He skipped to the kitchen and put the groceries on the table, before he immediately began to pack them in the appropriate spots. After this, he left the kitchen and looked around the main room. It was empty. He wondered where his Robbie was only briefly, before he saw a long, thin leg hanging off the side of the chair. He made his way over and looked down at the sleeping man who sat curled in his chair, breathing slowly and steadily. He gently grabbed Robbie’s wrist and held his finger over the vein. 

_Heart Rate: 60 beats per minute._  
Temperature: 98.8° F  
Blood Pressure: 154 mg/dl  
Feeling: N/A… asleep  
-normal __

After reviewing the information he received several times, he sat down next to the chair and looked at the TV. He didn't know what program it was, but it involved people running and throwing a ball. He leaned forward, his head tilting in an unconscious mimicry to what he had seen Stephanie do earlier. One of the tiny people on the tiny field caught the ball, and as he ran, the people in the stadium began cheering and standing. He looked at Robbie, still asleep, and then back at the TV. He moved closer to it and listened intently as the announcer shouted about the little man running towards the end of the field. Other little men tried to catch him but he was faster than them. The android moved closer and closer, until his nose touched the TV and his eyes raced back and forth, analyzing and memorizing everything that happened on the tiny screen. The man made it to the end of the field, and the tiny people screamed and shouted excitedly. 

“If there's a better sport than football, I've yet to find it!” the announcer yelled. The robot stopped for a moment. Sport. He wondered if there were more sports? More sports like… like football? He looked back at Robbie again, who was still asleep. He went through his to-do list to make sure he didn't have any duties that would prevent him from watching this so-called sport, and found one thing he needed to do: find a name. He wondered if his name could be sport. He turned his attention back to the screen and lost himself in the tiny, static world of television football. 


	2. The Naming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The android finds a name for himself!

It was an hour later when the robot heard shuffling behind him. He turned and saw Robbie sitting up in the chair, his eyelids drooping. He stood up quickly, feeling energized by the prospect of sports.  


“Good morning, sir!” he exclaimed. Robbie jumped at the voice, and was still and silent for a moment.  


“Did you get the groceries?” he asked.  


“Yes, sir!”  


Robbie was quiet for a while, again. “Good,” he said. More silence. The robot had a hard time deliberately bringing up a topic, or suggesting ideas. It felt wrong, like the feeling he had gotten before, when Robbie turned him off. He felt his circuits heating up as he shuffled in silence for a moment.  


“S...sir?” he asked softly. Robbie’s looked moderately surprised at the robot speaking first.  


“What is it?” he asked.  


“Sir, I… I talked to a tiny human on the way to the store, her name was Stephanie,” he started. Robbie huffed.  


“She shouldn't have talked to you,” he said, and the robot felt a small sense of guilty relief at her taking the blame instead of him.  


“She said I needed a name, sir,” he said. Robbie’s brow furrowed, and his head slowly turned away from him.  


“A name?”  


“Yes, sir.”  


It was quiet for a moment. “...and I assume you… have a suggestion?” Robbie said at last. The android looked back at the TV for a moment.  


“I like sports,” he said. A flash a fear crossed over Robbie’s face.  


“You… _like _sports.”__  


“Yes, sir. I like football,” he said, a soft excitement lacing his robotic voice as he said ‘football.’ Robbie recoiled slightly, his blind eyes moving frantically back and forth in the robot’s general direction.  


“Well do you want me to name you football then?” he asked after a moment, his voice a mixture of hesitation and bitterness.  


The robot thought about it for a moment. “Not really, sir,” he answered, and then watched Robbie lean back in his chair, and turn away from him.  


Robbie sat up suddenly. He was scared, and needed to change the subject now. He changed it to the only thing on his mind. “Let me tell you something, _football _; it's a cruel world out there. No one really cares about anyone else. That's why I… finished you, after I started to go blind.” he gestured in the robot’s general direction, “So you could take care of me. Does this make sense to you?”  
__

____

The robot disregarded this question. “But… sir, you're so kind, how could someone not care about you? You created me, and if it hadn't-”  


“Shut up,” Robbie interrupted, his voice shaking. “Does this make sense to you?”  


It was quiet for a moment. “Yes, sir. I don’t see what it has to do with sports, but yes, I suppose so.”  


Robbie looked away from the android, and the bot sensed a flare in the tall man’s emotions. The robot was sticking to a subject, something he wasn’t programmed to do.  


“Are you okay, sir? If you’d like I can make you something to eat or get you a blanket or-”  


“ _Stop it!_ ” Robbie interrupted him suddenly. He’d had enough. The android took a step back. “You shouldn’t be suggesting those things. You shouldn’t _like_ sports or _care_ about people or _talk_ to Stephanie and you shouldn’t be _suggesting_ things. I didn’t program you to suggest those things, you’re... you're supposed to just be a robot!” Robbie nearly screamed. He picked up the closest object to him, an empty glass, and threw it. The android watched as it flew past him and hit the television, and it faded to static for a second before coming back, with a new picture. He ignored it. His Robbie had yelled at him, but he deserved it for what he did. He wasn't sure what he did, but he deserved the punishment.  


“ _Spartacus. The Slaves Revolt - 71 BC by Brian Palmer_ ” the box droned. The mechanical man turned to look at the box as it showed a painting of a man, wearing what his software identified as ancient Roman armor, with a small, yellowing sword in one hand and a shield in the other. There was a long, uncomfortable silence as Robbie held his head in his hands, and the bot shuffled in place. 

“Spartacus,” Robbie repeated softly, without looking up. “Do you know who Spartacus is?” he asked.  


“No, sir,” the android answered  


“Spartacus was one of the escaped slave leaders in the Third Servile War. Do you know what the Third Servile War is?”  


“No, sir.”  


“The Third Servile War was a slave uprising against the Roman Republic.”  


It was quiet for a moment as the robot slowly analyzed the given information. He looked back at the television “Yes, sir,” he said, and then turned back to the inventor. Robbie was sitting up in his chair, his blind eyes staring intently at nothing.  


“Do you know what Spartacus represents?” he asked, and before the android could answer, he continued, “Selflessness, bravery, hope, etc. All the things I built you to represent. Do you… do you understand, my creation?” he asked, his voice soft, and scared.  


“Is my name Spartacus? I’d be honored to be named after-” his voice suddenly screeched metallically as he tried to speak over himself. “Sportacus,” the robot whispered. Robbie’s face distorted in disgust.  


“What… Sportacus? You want your name to be a stupid pun?”  


“If it’s okay with you, sir.”  


Robbie’s scoffed. “Call yourself whatever you want to, I suppose.”  


The robot felt a joy like never before. His circuits sparked as he mouthed his new name, ‘Sportacus.’ It was perfect. It danced across his tongue, and he couldn't stop himself from giggling in glee and bounding over to the chair where his creator sat. Robbie recoiled away from the robot’s laugh, and Sportacus suddenly wished he know how to physically express his happiness. He grabbed Robbie’s hand and held it to his chest. “Thank you, sir,” he said. Robbie looked up uneasily, with confused, pale eyes, and then leaned into the chair and buried his face into it.  


“Great. Leave me alone...Sportacus. God. That’s disgusting,” he said, mostly to himself, and Sportacus obeyed his master. He waddled over to the television and sat down in front of it. His technological brain took in and memorized every detail that he could about the hero he’d been named after… Spartacus.  


“Sportacus,” he whispered.  


“Shut up,” Robbie answered. 

**Author's Note:**

> I could continue this 1 maybe? I have more written :0


End file.
